My Ghost
by xxxTalesxxx
Summary: “I know you’ll come and see me again. There is no use in denying it, Ryuuzaki.” His warm, tinkling laugh ravaged Mikami’s mind.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Happy belated birthday, Raven-sama~. I wuff joooo.  
Now do more MikaLight with me because you love him, and I'm going to need some srs fluff after all of this angst.  
Anyways, please review this one…I believe it's my most pathetically devoted! Mikami yet, and it's the closest thing to LLight I will most likely ever write. .3.  
PLUS, I TRIED TO FORMAT IT FOR ONCE. ;__;

I would like to take this time to thank Zelda. She edited this at, like, 3 AM. Not only that, but she picked out all of my mistakes and aided me in a marvelous way. I am in her debt.

-x-

With fingers pressed against the smooth glass, he looked at the ghost in the mirror.

The emaciated torso was ashen pale, sides quivering with each new breath, the hollow, exhausted

eyes gazing dismally into themselves. He lifted his hand, the apparition sinuously mimicking his

movement, and slowly brushed aside his unkempt bangs, extending the motion until he had

reached the choppy ends of his onyx hair.

As he continued to stare at his own parody, his own travesty into which he had deluded

himself, he couldn't help but breathe a singular word:

"God."

-x-

His God was in love with a man of many names. In his slumber, he would beautifully

murmur titles such as Ryuuzaki, Ryuuga, and L. The last he embellished with such passion, such

need, such sublime gentleness, that the first time it was uttered Mikami had felt as though

something within him had been rent horribly asunder. During the day he buried himself in work

with exceptional vigor, but the soft voice of God would mercilessly permeate his thoughts

whenever he took even a moment's rest. It echoed cruelly and wonderfully, longing,

magnificent, divine, and damning. He would cry out and dig his nails into his palm as his

eyes stung and burned, as he became breathless and infuriated and loathing of himself. He did

not deserve God's love. Teru was merely his servant, his hand, his disciple, his loyal dog until

death. He was the man that loved him with every fiber of his being, with every cell, with all of

his heart and soul, helpless and stupid due to human emotion. The prosecutor would be Kira's

infallible aide until he passed into the next world and perished, while this ghost haunted his God

even in death. He hated L and wished form him to be among those in the deepest cesspits of Hell,

but his adoration for his God was unparalleled.

-x-

Obtaining information on L's appearance had been a difficult and time consuming

procedure. His God would indulge him on rare occasions about the detective's peculiar habits,

his disheveled persona, his intelligence, and their battle for dominance. Kira would muse bitterly

over his time spent with the sleuth, perfect eyes distant and brooding.

Using what he had acquired, he had transformed himself into the other. While not

in Light's presence, he would adopt the strange mannerisms the other displayed and practice his

pronounced slouch. He would occasionally visit the local bakery and sample sweet delicacies,

but for most of his transformation he completely rejected both food and rest. According to his

calculations, the other man had been around ten to fifteen pounds lighter than he and possessed a

much leaner build. In order to achieve this, he had resorted to a simple method: starvation. He

would spend hours famished and trembling in his office, all the while keeping a tiny smile

plastered to his face. He was going to make his God happy, and that would bring him infinite

joy, even if a certain part of his chest would not cease aching.

For weeks he prepared himself in isolation- cutting his hair, purchasing make up and dark

contact lenses, losing his muscle mass and becoming a being of skin and bone- falsely explaining

to an unconcerned Light that he was needed for a case in another province and that he would be

absent for a good amount of time.

-x-

"A perfectly fabricated lie," Mikami murmured as he reached for a white shirt with long

sleeves. He had neglected himself flawlessly and created the ideal facsimile of the phantom that

troubled the divinity. "For you, my God, for you…please, grace me with your smile."

Removing his fingers from the glass, he left the ghost in the mirror as the clock struck

twelve.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Decided this had to be two chapters. Urrrgghhh. I'm sleepy, but I need to finish.

-sob-

-x-

Yagami Light was lost in peaceful slumber; his lips were parted, his closed eyes rimmed

with long lashes. To Mikami, he was stunning, dazzling, no, absolutely perfect when he

dreamed, his unconscious imaginings becoming reality as they together formed the New World.

The lawyer scarcely breathed as he advanced to his God's bedside, stooping down in the fashion

of the creature he was impersonating and running his impure fingertips over unblemished cheeks.

His heart battered against his ribs, his gaunt cheeks stained with blush as the other began to stir,

glazed golden eyes blearily opening.

"Ryuuzaki?" Light whispered, his eyes groggily tracing over Teru's visage. The latter

shifted, pulling himself up onto the bed. Extending his hands hesitantly, but with growing

confidence as he remembered his supposed character, he pulled Light into a desperate kiss. It

was returned with equal enthusiasm. With each second it grew more and more heated, until Light

broke off, panting heavily with his face flushed.

"I need you, L," the holier of the two lamented, fingers twisting into the fabric of the

white shirt, pulling, tugging on him. "You won. You won, you bastard…Love me. Love me,

God-fucking-damn it!"

Mikami was silent as he crawled over the diving body, pressing his lips fervently to his

neck.

"I already do," he mouthed, closing his eyes as Light emitted a gasping groan. "You are

my everything. Please smile for me…"

-x-

The name L was expressed once more that night, the name screamed at the top

of Light's lungs at his climax. Tears began to spill down from the acolyte's eyes, and he bit his

lip until beads of blood flecked down upon his God who stared up at him serenely. Wiping the

tears away from his disciple's eyes with a practiced motion, the edges of Light's lips curved

delicately upward. The elder could only gaze, distraught, as his world snuggled deeper into the

mattress and sighed.

"I know you'll come and see me again. There is no use in denying it, Ryuuzaki." His

warm, tinkling laugh ravaged Mikami's mind. "I'll always be here waiting for you, my worst

enemy, my best love." There was a short pause as Light leaned up and pressed his lips to Teru's

cheek. "Good night, my ghost."

Once he was sure his idol was once more in the realm of dreams, the proselyte threw

several garments back on in order to cover himself, burst out of his apartment, sprinted down the

hall, and rammed into the door for the stairs. He jaunted down the steps as fast as his feet would

carry him, stumbling in a blind fit until his actions caught up with him and sent him down onto

his knees. He covered his mouth and shrieked into his hands in frustration, shaking his head

furiously.

This wasn't fair. The hideous, skeletal body in which he had trapped himself was a

blasphemer of Kira, not worthy of the dirt six feet beneath his lord's feet, but yet, somehow,

Ryuuzaki had earned his supreme love. Teru had done everything he could for Light in order to

make him joyous; he had accommodated to even the slightest whims and fancies of his savior,

incessantly serving him with every ounce of devotion and admiration his mortal form could

muster. He gnashed his teeth, pulled vehemently on his hair, was engulfed in awful new

emotions which sent shivers down his spine and blazing spikes through his heart. Why couldn't

Light, omnipotent and omniscient, see what he was to his worshipper? No, the more important

question was _why could he only make his God exuberant while in the form of another_? Was he

inadequate? What was wrongwith him? He had strived for excellence, he had tried so hard, but

_why_ was he still failing?

Why? Why? _Why?_

He opened his mouth, lips protruded as he prepared to pose himself the dreaded question;

instead, four words flowed out effortlessly and repeated themselves over and over, each

reiteration bringing more and more anguish. His legs flailed wildly, his torso jerked, and he

sobbed until he was reduced to a lifeless, sniveling mess.

-x-

Pressed against the floor, Teru idly dipped his index finger into a smear of blood that ran

down the length of his torso. His knees and elbows seared from scrapes, several bruises

beginning to color his white skin brown and purple. With deliberate strokes, he wrote the four

words that had freely erupted from him earlier, the four simple words which explained his plight:

"I love you, God."

A/N: Okay, I might make a third chapter for this. –claps- I just don't know what to do yet.  
Should Light find out? If so, how? Should Mikami continue his charade until he goes insane?  
Perhaps something entirely different would be best?  
Maybe this could be, like, the prologue to "Doubt."  
I dunno'.

Give me your opinions~!  
Review! :33

…I write too much one-sided angst.  
._.


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